"You may come to me tomorrow, Trotter," said Mrs. Millidew, the younger. "Now, don't glare at me, mother-in-law," she added peevishly. "You've dismissed him, so don't, for heaven's sake, croak about me stealing him away from you."
Trotter's employer closed her jaws with a snap, then opened them instantly to exclaim:
"No, you don't, my dear. I withdraw the notice, Trotter. You stay on with me. Drop Mrs. Millidew at her place first, and then drive me home. That's all right, Dolly. I don't care if it is out of our way. I wouldn't leave you alone with him for anything in the world."
Trotter sighed. Miss Emsdale had turned the corner.
CHAPTER XII
IN THE FOG
MISS EMSDALE did not ask Mrs. Smith-Parvis for a "reference." She dreaded the interview that was set for seven o'clock that evening. The butler had informed her on her return to the house shortly after five that Mrs. Smith-Parvis would see her at seven in the library, after all, instead of in her boudoir, and she was to look sharp about being prompt.
The young lady smiled. "It's all one to me, Rogers,—the library or the boudoir."